[Column 1]

I haue great wonder by this light
Howe I lyue/for day ne nyght
I may not slepe/welny nought
I haue so many an ydle thought
Purely for defaulte of slepe
That by my trouthe/I take no kepe
Of nothyng/howe it cometh or gothe
Ne menys nothyng lefe nor lothe
Al is ilyche good to me
Joye or sorowe/where so it be
For I haue felyng in no thyng
But as it were a mased thyng
Alday in poynte to fal adoun
For sorouful ymagynacioun
Is alway holy in my mynde

And wel ye wote/agaynst kynde
It were to lyuen in this wyse
For nature wolde not suffyse
To none erthly creature
Not longe tyme to endure
Without slepe/and be in sorowe
And I ne maye/ne nyght ne morowe
Slepe/and this melancolye
And drede I haue for to dye
Defaute of slepe and heuynesse
Hath slayne my spyrite of quicknesse
That I haue loste al lustyheed
Suche fantasyes ben in myn heed
So I not what is beste to do
But men might aske me why so
I may not slepe/and what me is

But nathelesse/who aske this
Leseth his askyng trewly
My seluen can not tel why
The sothe/but trewly as I gesse
I holde it be a sicknesse
That I haue suffred this eyght yere
And yet my boote is neuer the nere
For there is phisycien but one
That may me heale/but that is done
Passe we ouer vntyl efte
That wyl not be/mote nede be lefte
Our first mater is good to kepe

So whan I sawe I might not slepe
Tyl nowe late/this other nyght
Upon my bedde I sate vpright
And bade one reche me a booke
A romaunce/and he it me toke

[Column 2]

And in this boke were written fables
That clerkes had in olde tyme
And other poetes/put in ryme
To rede/and for to be in mynde
Whyle men loued the lawe of kynde
This boke ne spake/but of suche thynges
Of quenes lyues/and of kynges
And many other thinges smale
Amonge al this I founde a tale
That me thought a wonder thyng.

This was the tale: There was a kyng
That hyght Seys/and had a wyfe
The beste that myght beare lyfe
And this quene hyght Alcyone
So it befyl/therafter sone
This kyng wol wenden ouer see
To tellen shortly/whan that he
Was in the see/thus in this wyse
Suche a tempest gan to ryse
That brake her maste/and made it fal
And clefte her shyp/and dreynt hem al
That neuer was founde/as it telles
Borde ne man/ne nothyng elles
Right thus this kyng Seys loste his lyfe

Nowe for to speke of Alcyone his wyfe
This lady that was lefte at home
Hath wonder/that the kyng ne come
Home/for it was a longe terme
Anon her herte began to yerne
And for that her thought euermo
It was not wele/her thought so
She longed so after the kyng
That certes it were a pytous thyng
To tel her hertely sorouful lyfe
That she had/this noble wyfe
For him alas/she loued alderbest
Anon she sent bothe eest and west
To seke him/but they founde nought

Alas (quod she) that I was wrought
And wher my lorde my loue be deed:
Certes I nyl neuer eate breed
I make a vowe to my god here
But I mowe of my lorde here

Suche sorowe this lady to her toke
That trewly/I that made this boke

[Column 1]

So whan this lady coude here no worde
That no man myght fynde her lorde
Ful ofte she swowned/and sayd alas
For sorowe/ful nighe woode she was
Ne she coude no rede but one
But downe on knees she sate anone
And wepte/that pyte was to here

A mercy swete lady dere
(Quod she) to Juno her goddesse
Helpe me out of this distresse
And yeue me grace my lorde to se
Soone/or wete where so he be
Or howe he fareth/or in what wyse
And I shal make you sacrifyse
And holy yours become I shal
With good wyl/body/herte and al
And but thou wolte this/lady swete
Sende me grace to slepe and mete
In my slepe some certayne sweuen
Where through that I may knowe euen
Whether my lorde be quicke or deed

With that worde she hynge downe the heed
And fel in a swoune/as colde as stone
Her women caught her vp anone
And brought her in bed al naked
And she forweped and forwaked
Was wery/and thus the deed slepe
Fel on her/or she toke kepe
Through Juno/that had herde her boone
That made her to slepe soone
For as she prayde/right so was don
In dede/for Juno right anon
Called thus her messangere
To do her erande/and he come nere
Whan he was come/she bad hym thus

Go bet (quod Juno) to Morpheus
Thou knowest hym wel/the god of slepe
Nowe vnderstande wel/and take kepe
Saye thus on my halfe/that he
Go fast in to the great see
And byd hym that on al thynge
He take vp Seys body the kyng
That lyeth ful pale/and nothynge rody
Byd hym crepe in to the body

[Column 2]

This messanger toke leue and wente
Vpon his way/and neuer he stente
Tyl he came to the darke valey
That stante bytwene rockes twey
There neuer yet grewe corne ne gras
Ne tree/ne naught that ought was
Beest ne man/ne nought elles
Saue that there were a fewe welles
Came rennynge fro the clyffes adowne
That made a deedly slepynge sowne
And rennen downe right by a caue
That was vnder a rocke ygraue
Amyd the valey wonder depe
There these goddes lay aslepe
Morpheus and Eclympasteyre
That was the god of slepes heyre
That slepte/and dyd none other werke

This caue was also as derke
As hel pytte/ouer al aboute
They had good leyser for to route
To vye who might slepe best
Some hynge her chynne vpon her brest
And slepte vpright her heed yhed
And some lay naked in her bed
And slepte whyles theyr dayes last

This messanger come rennyng fast
And cryed ho ho/awake anone
It was for nought/there herde hym none
Awake (quod he) who lyeth there
And blewe his horne right in her eere
And cryed awaketh wonder hye

This god of slepe/with his one eye
Cast vp/and asked who clepeth there
It am I (quod this messangere)
Juno bade thou shuldest gone
And tolde hym what he shulde done
As I haue tolde you here before
It is no nede reherse it more
And wente his way whan he had sayde

Anone this god of slepe abrayde

[Column 1]

With that her eyen vp she casteth
And sawe naught/alas (quod she) for sorowe
And dyed within the thyrde morowe

But what she sayd more in that swowe
I may nat tel you as nowe
It were to longe for to dwel
My fyrst matere I wyl you tel
Wherfore I haue tolde this thynge
Of Alcione/and Seys the kynge

For thus moche dare I say wel
I had be doluen euerydel
And deed/right thrugh defaute of slepe
If I ne had red/and take kepe
Of this tale nexte before
And I wyl tel you wherfore
For I ne myght for bote ne bale
Slepe/or I had redde this tale
Of this dreynte Syes the kynge
And of the goddes of slepynge

Whan I had red this tale wele
And ouerloked it euerydele
Me thought wonder/if it were so
For I had neuer herde speke or tho
Of no goddes/that coude make
Men to slepe/ne for to wake
For I ne knewe neuer god but one
And in my game/I sayd anone
And yet me lyst ryght euyl to pley
Rather than that I shulde dey

[Column 2]

I had vnneth that worde ysayde
Ryght thus as I haue tolde you
That sodeynly I nyst howe
Suche a lust anone me toke
To slepe/that ryght vpon my boke
I fel a slepe/and therwith euen
Me mette so inly suche a sweuen
So wonderful/that neuer yet
I trowe no man had the wyt
To conne wel my sweuen rede

No nought Joseph without drede
Of Egypte/he that rad so
The kynges metynge Pharao
No more than coude the lest of vs

Ne nat scarsly Macrobeus
He that wrote al the auysyon
That he met kynge Scipion
The noble man the Affrican
Suche meruayles fortuned than

[Column 1]

Me thought thus/that it was Maye
And in the dawnynge there I lay
Me met thus in my bed al naked
And loked forthe/for I was waked
With smale foules a great hepe
That had afrayed me out of my slepe
Through noyse/and swetnesse of her songe
And as me met/they sate amonge
Upon my chambre rofe without
Upon the tyles ouer al about
And eueryche songe in his wyse
The most solempne seruyse
Be note/that euer man I trowe
Had herde/for some of hem songe lowe
Some hygh/and al of one accorde
To tel shortly at a worde
Was neuer herde so swete steuen
But it had be a thynge of heuen
So mery a sowne/so swete entunes
That certes for the towne of Tewnes
I nolde/but I had herde hem synge
For al my chambre gan to rynge
Throughe syngynge of her ermony
For instrument/nor melody
Was no where herde/yet halfe so swete
Nor of acorde halfe so mete
For there was none of hem that fayned
To synge/for eche of hem him payned
To fynde out many crafty notes
They ne spared nat her throtes
And soth to sayne/my chambre was
Ful wel depaynted/and with glas
Were al the wyndowes/wel yglased
Ful clere/and nat an hole ycrased
That to beholde it was great ioy
For holly al the story of Troy
Was in the glasynge ywrought thus
Of Hector/and of kynge Priamus
Of Achylles/and of kynge Lamedon
And eke of Medea/and of Iason
Of Paris/Heleyne/and of Lauyne
And al the walles with colours fyne
Were paynte/bothe texte and glose
And al the Romaunce of the rose
My wyndowes weren shyt echone
And throughe the glasse the sonne shone

[Column 2]

And as I lay thus wonder lowde
Me thought I herde an hunte blowe
Tassay his great horne/and for to knowe
Whether it was clere/or horse of sowne

And I herde goynge bothe vp and downe
Men/horse/houndes/and other thynge
And al men speke of huntynge
Howe they wolde slee the harte with strength
And howe the harte had vpon length
So moche enbosed/I not nowe what

Anone ryght whan I herde that
Howe that they wolde/on huntynge gone
I was ryght glad/and vp anone
Toke my horse/and forthe I wente
Out of my chambre/I neuer stente
Tyl I come to the felde without
There ouer toke I a grete route
Of hunters/and eke of foresters
And many relayes and lymers
And hyed hem to the forest fast
And I with hem/so at the last
I asked one ladde/a lymere

Say felowe/who shal hunte here
(Quod I) and he answered ayen

Syr/the Emperour Octonyen
(Quod he)and is here fast by

A goddes halfe/in good tyme (quod I)
Go we fast/and gan to ryde
Whan we come to the forest syde
Euery man dyd ryght soone
As to huntynge fel to done

The mayster hunte/anone fote hote
With his horne blewe thre mote
At the vncouplynge of his houndes
Within a whyle/the harte founde is
Ihalowed/and rechased fast
Longe tyme/and so at the last
This harte roused and stale away
Fro al the houndes a preuy way

The houndes had ouer shot hym al
And were vpon a defaulte yfal.

[Column 1]

I wolde haue caught it anone
It fledde/and was fro me gone
As I him folowed/and it forthe went
Downe by a floury greene it went
Ful thycke of grasse/ful softe and swete
With floures fele/fayre vnder fete
And lytel vsed/it semed thus
For bothe Flora/and Zepherus
They two/that make floures growe
Had make her dwellyng there I trowe
For it was on to beholde
As though the erthe enuye wolde
To be gayer than the heuen
To haue mo floures/suche seuen
As in the welken sterresbe
It had forget the pouerte
That wynter/through his colde morowes
Had made it suffre/and his sorowes
Al was foryeten/and that was sene
For al the woode was woxen grene
Swetnesse of dewe/had made it waxe

It is no nede eke for to axe
Where there were many greene greues
Of thycke of trees/so ful of leues
And euery tree stode by him selue
Fro others/wel ten foote or twelue
So great trees/so huge of strength
Of fourty or fyfty fedome length
Cleane without bowe or stycke
With croppes brode/and eke as thycke
They were not an ynche a sonder
That it was shadde ouer al vnder
And many an hart/and many an hynde
Was bothe before me/and behynde
Of fawnes/sowers/buckes/does
Was ful the wodde/and many roes
And many squyrrels/that sete
Ful hygh vpon the trees and ete

[Column 2]

I haue of sorowe so great wone
That ioye gette I neuer none
Nowe that I se my lady bright
Whiche I haue loued/withal my myght
Is fro me deed/and is agone
And thus in sorowe/lefte me alone

[Column 1]

Whan he had made thus his complaynte
His sorouful herte/gan faste faynte
And his spyrites wexen dede
The bloode was fleode/for pure drede
Downe to his herte/to maken him warme
For wel it feled the herte had harme
To wete eke/why it was adradde
By kynde/and for to make it gladde
For it is membre principal
Of the body/and that made al
His hewe chaunge/and wexe grene
And pale/for there no bloode is sene
In no maner lymme of his

Anon therwith/whan I sawe this
He farde thus yuel/there he sete
I went and stode right at his fete
And grette him/but he spake nought
But argued with his owne thought
And in his wytte/disputed faste
Why/and howe his lyfe might laste
Him thought his sorowes were so smerte
And lay so colde vpon his herte

So through his sorowe/and holy thought
Made hym that he herde me nought
For he had welnye loste his mynde
Though Pan/that men clepeth god of kynde
Were for his sorowes neuer so wrothe

But at the laste/to sayne right sothe
He was ware of me/howe I stoode
Before him/And dyd of my hoode
And had ygret him/as I best coude
Debonairly/and nothyng loude
He sayd/I pray the be not wrothe
I herde the not/to sayne the sothe
Ne I sawe the not/sir trewly

Ah good sir/noforce (quod I)
I am right sory/if I haue ought
Distroubled you/out of your thought
Foryeue me/if I haue mysse take

Yes/thamendes is lyght to make
(Quod he) for there lythe none therto
There is nothyng missayde/nor do

[Column 2]

Sir (quod I) this game is done
I holde that this herte be gone
These huntes can him nowhere so

I do no force therof (quod he)
My thought is theron neuer a dele

By our lorde (quod I) I trowe you wele
Right so me thynketh by your chere
But sir/o thyng wol ye here
Me thynketh in great sorowe I you se
But certes sir/if that ye
Wolde aught discure me your wo
I wolde/as wyse god helpe me so
Amende it/if I can or may
Ye mowe proue it by assay
For by my trouthe/to make you hole
I wol do al my power hole
And telleth me/of your sorowes smerte
Paraunter it may ease your herte
That semeth ful sycke vnder your syde

With that he loked on me a syde
As who sayeth nay/that wyl not be

Graunt mercy good frende (quod he)
I thanke the/that thou woldest so
But it may neuer the rather be do
No man may my sorowe glade
That maketh my hewe to fal and fade
And hath myn vnderstondyng lorne
That me is wo/that I was borne
May naught make my sorowes slyde
Not al the remedyes of Ouyde
Ne Orpheus/god of melodye
Ne Dedalus/with his playes slye
Ne heale me/may no phisycien
Naught Ipocras/ne Galyen
Me is wo/that I lyue houres twelue
But who so wel assay him selue
Whether his hertecan haue pyte
Of any sorowe/lette him se me

[Column 1]

My boldenesse is turned to shame
For false fortune/hath played a game
At the Chesse with me/alas the whyle
The trayteresse false/and ful of gyle
That al behoteth/and nothyng halte
She gothe vpright/and yet she halte
That baggeth foule/and loketh fayre
The dispytous debonayre

[Column 2]

[Column 1]

And whan I herde hym tel this tale
Thus pytuously/as I you tel
Vnnethe myght I lenger dwel
It dyd myne herte so muche wo

A good syr (quod I) say nat so
Haue some pyte on your nature
That formed you to creature
Remembreth you of Socrates
For he ne counted nat thre strees
Of nought that fortune coude do

No (quod he) I can nat so

[Column 2]

Why so (quod he) it is nat so
Thou wotest ful lytel what thou menest
I haue lost more than thou wenest

Howe that may be (quod I)
Good syr/tel me al holy
In what wyse/howe/why/and wherfore
That ye haue thus your blysse lore

Blythely (quod he) come syt doun
I tel the vpon a condycyoun
That thou shalte holy with al thy wyt
Do thyne entente to herken it

Yes syr: Swere thy trouth therto
Gladly do than holde here to
I shal right blythely/so god me saue
Holy with al the wyt I haue
Here you as wel as I can
A goddes halfe (quod he) and began

Syr (quod he) syth fyrst I couthe
Haue any maner wyt fro youthe
Or kyndely vnderstandynge
To comprehende in any thynge
What loue was/in myne owne wyt
Dredelesse I haue euer yet
Be trybutary/and yeue rente
To loue holy/with good entente
And through plesaunce/become his thral
With good wyl/body/herte and al

[Column 1]

And this was longe/and many a yere
(Er that myn herte was set o where)
That I dyd thus/and nyste why
I trowe it came me kyndely
Paraunter I was therto moste able
As a whyte wal/or a table
For it is redy to ketche and take
Al that men wyl therin make
Whether so men wol portrey or paynte
Be the werkes neuer so quaynte.

And thylke tyme I fared right so
I was able to haue lerned tho
And to haue conde/as wel or better
Paraunter/eyther arte or letter
But for loue came first in my thought
Therfore I forgate it nought
I chees loue to my first crafte
Therfore it is with me laste
For why/I toke it of so yonge age
That malyce had my corage
Not that tyme/turned to no thyng
Through to mokel knowlegyng
For that tyme/youthe my maystresse
Gouerned me in ydelnesse
For it was in my first youthe
And tho ful lytel good I couthe
For al my werkes were flyttyng
That tyme/and al my thought varyeng
Al were to me ilyche goode
That I knewe tho/but thus it stode.

It happed that I came on a day
In to a place/there that I sey
Trewly the fayrest companye
Of ladyes/that euer man with eye
Had sene togythers in o place
Shal I clepe it happe/eyther grace
That brought me there/not but fortune
That is to lyen ful comune
The false trayteresse peruerse
God wolde I coulde clepe her werse
For nowe she worcheth me ful wo
And I wol tel sone why so.

[Column 2]

Amonge these ladyes thus echone
Sothe to sayne/I sawe one
That was lyke none of the route
For I dare swere/without doute
That as the somers sonne bright
Is fayrer/clerer/and hath more lyght
Than any other planet in heuen
The moone/or the sterres suen
For al the worlde/so had she
Surmounted hem al of beaute
Of maner/and of comlynesse
Of stature/and of wel set gladnesse
Of goodlyhede/and so wel besey
Shortly/what shal I more sey
By god and by his halowes twelue
It was my swete/right al her selue
She had so stedfast countenaunce
So noble porte/and mayntenaunce
And Loue/that wel herde my bone
Had espyed me thus sone
That she ful sone in my thought
As helpe me god/so was I cought
So sodainly/that I ne toke
No maner counsayle/but at her loke
And at myn herte/for why her eyen
So gladly I trowe myn herte seyne
That purely tho/myn owne thought
Sayd/it were better serue her for nought
Than with another to be wele
And it was sothe/for euerdele
I wyl anon right tel the why

I sawe her daunce so comely
Carol and synge so swetely
Laughe/and playe so womanly
And loke so debonairly
So goodly speke and so frendly
That certes I trowe that neuermore
Nas sene so blysful a tresore
For euery heer on her heed
Sothe to saye it was nat reed
Ne neyther yelowe ne browne it nas
Me thought most lyke golde it was
And whiche eyen my lady had
Debonayre/good/glad/and sad
Symple/of good mokel/not to wyde
Therto her loke nas nat asyde
Ne ouert whart/but beset so wel
It drewe and toke vp euerydele

[Column 1]

[Column 2]

And suche a goodly swete speche
Had that swete/my lyues leche
So frendly/and so wel ygrounded
Vpon al reason/so wel yfounded
And so tretable to al good
That I dare sweare wel by the rood
Of eloquence was neuer founde
So swete a sownynge facounde
Ne trewer tonged/ne scorned lasse
Ne bet coulde heale: That by the masse
I durste sweare/though the Pope it songe
That there was neuer yet/through her tonge
Man ne woman greatly harmyd
As for her/was al harme hyd
Ne lasse flaterynge in her worde
That purely her symple recorde
Was founde as trewe as any bonde
Or trouthe/of any mannes honde

Ne chyde she coulde neuer a dele
That knoweth al the worlde ful wele
But suche a fayrenesse of a necke
Had that swete/that bone nor brecke
Nas ther none sene/that myssatte
It was whyte/smothe/streyght/& pure flatte
Without hole/or canel bone
Ano by semynge/she had none

Her throte/as I haue nowe memoire
Semed as a rounde tour of yuoire
Of good greatnesse/and not to grete
And fayre whyte she hete
That was my ladyes name right
She was therto fayre and bright
She had not her name wronge
Right fayre sholders/and body longe
She had/and armes euery lyth
Fattysshe flesshy/nat great therwith
Right whyte handes/and nayles rede
Rounde brestes: And of good brede
Her hyppes were/a streight flatte backe
I knewe on her none other lacke
That al her lymmes nere pure sewyng
In as ferre as I had knowynge

[Column 1]

Right so farde my lady dere
For euery wight of her manere
Might catche ynough/if that he wolde
If he had eyen her to beholde
For I dare sweare wel/if that she
Had amonge ten thousande be
She wolde haue be at the beste
A chefe myrrour of al the feste
Though they had stonde in a rowe
To mennes eyen/that coulde haue knowe
For where so men had playde/or waked
Me thought the felaushyp as naked
Without her/that I sawe ones
As a crowne without stones
Trewly she was to myn eye
The soleyn fenix of Arabye
For there lyueth neuer but one
Ne suche as she/ne knowe I none
To speke of goodnesse/trewly she
had as moche debonayrte
As euer had Hester in the Byble
And more/if more were possyble
And sothe to sayne/therwithal
She had a wytte so general
So hole enclyned to al goode
That al her wytte was set by the roode
Without malyce/vpon gladnesse
And therto I sawe neuer yet a lesse
Harmful/than she was in doyng
I say not that she ne had knowyng
What harme was/or els she
Had coulde no good/so thynketh me
And trewly/for to speke of trouthe
But she had had/it had be routhe
Therof she had so moche her dele
And I dare sayne/and swere it wele
That trouthe him selfe/oueral and al
Had chose his maner principal
In her/that was his restyng place
Therto she had the moste grace
To haue stedfast perseueraunce
And easy attempre goueraunce

[Column 2]

Therwith she loued so wel right
She wronge do wolde to no wight
No wight might do her no shame
She loued so wel her owne name

Her lust to holde no wight in honde
Ne be thou syker/she wolde no fonde
To holde no wight in balaunce
By halfe worde/ne by countenaunce
But if men wolde vpon her lye
Ne sende men in to Walakye
To Pruyse/and to Tartarie
So Allsaundrie/ne in to Turkie
And bydde him faste/anon that he
Go hoodlesse in to the drie see
And come home by the Carrenare

And sir/be nowe right ware
That I may of you here sayne
Worshyp/or that ye come agayne

She ne vsed no suche knackes smale
But therfore that I tel my tale
Right on this same/I haue sayde
Was holy al my loue layde
For certes she was that swete wyfe
My suffysaunce/my luste/my lyfe
Myn hope/myn heale/and al blesse
My worldes welfare/and my goddesse
And I holy hers/and euerydele

By our lorde (quod I) I trowe you wele
Hardly your loue was wel beset
I not howe ye myght haue do bet

Bet/ne not so wel (quod he)
I trowe sir (quod I) parde.

Nay leue it wel: Sir so do I
I leue you wel/that trewly
You thought that she was the beste
And to beholde/the alderfayrest
Who so had loked her with your eyen:

With myn/nay al that her seyen
Sayd and swore/it was so
And though they ne had/I wolde tho
Haue loued best my lady fre
Though I had had al the beaute

[Column 1]

Nede nay trewly I gabbe nowe
Naught nede/and I wol tellen howe
For of good wyl myn herte it wolde
And eke to loue her/I was holde
As for the fayrest and the beste
She was as good/so haue I reste
As euer was Penelope of Grece
Or as the noble wyfe Lucrece
That was the beste/he telleth thus
The romayne Tytus Lyuius
She was as good/and nothyng lyke
Though her stories be autentyke
Algate she was as trewe as she

But wherfore that I tel the
Whan I first my lady sey
I was right yonge/sothe to say
And ful great nede I had to lerne
Whan myn herte wolde yerne
To loue it was a great emprise
But as my wytte wolde beste suffyse
After my yonge childely wyt
Without drede I beset it
To loue her in my best wyse
To do her worshyp/and the seruyse
That I coude tho/by my trouthe
Without faynyng/eyther slouthe
For wonder fayne/I wolde her se
So mokel it amended me
That whan I sawe her a morowe
I was warysshed of al my sorowe

[Column 2]

Nowe by my trouthe sir (quod I)
My thynketh ye haue suche a chaunce
As shrifte/without repentaunce

Repentaunce/nay fye (quod he)
Shulde I nowe repente me
To loue/nay certes than were I wel
Werse than was Achytofel
Or Antenor/so haue I ioye
The traytour that betrayed Troye
Or the false Genelion
He that purchased the trayson
Of Rouland/and of Olyuere
Nay/whyle I am a lyue here
I nyl foryet her neuer mo

Nowe good sir (quod I) tho
Ye haue wel tolde me here before
It is no nede to reherse it more
Howe ye sawe her first/and where
But wolde ye tel me the manere
To her/whiche was your first speche
Therof I wolde you beseche
And howe she knewe first your thought
Whether ye loued her/or nought
And telleth me eke/what ye haue lore
I herde you tel here before
Ye sayd/thou notest what thou menest
I haue loste more than thou wenest
What losse is that (quod I tho)
Nyl she not loue you/is it so
Or haue ye aught done amys
That she hath lefte youe/is it this
For goddes loue tel me al

Before god (quod he) and I shal
I say right as I haue sayde
On her was al my loue layde
And yet she nyst it not neuer a dele
Not longe tyme/leue it wele
For be right syker/I durst nought
For al this worlde/tel her my thought
Ne I wolde haue wrathed her trewly
For woste thou why/she was lady

[Column 1]

But for to kepe me fro ydlenesse
Trewly I dyd my busynesse
To make songes as I best coude
And ofte tyme I songe hem loude
And made songes/this a great dele
Although I coude not make so wele
Songes/ne knewe the arte al
As coude Lamekes sonne Tubal
That founde out first the arte of songe
For as his brothers hamers ronge
Vpon his anuelt vp and downe
Therof he toke the first sowne

But grekes sayne of Pithagoras
That he the first fynder was
Of the arte/Aurora telleth so
But therof noforce of hem two
Algates songes thus I made
Of my felyng/myn herte to glade
And lo/this was alther ferst
I not where it were the werst

Lorde it maketh myne herte lyght
Whan I thynke on that swete wyght
That is so semely on to se
And wysshe to god it might so be
That she wolde holde me for her knight
My lady/that is so fayre and bright

Nowe haue I tolde the/sothe to say
My first songe vpon a day
I bethought me what wo
And sorowe that I suffred tho
For her/and yet she wyst it nought
Ne tel her durst I not my thought
Alas thought I/I can no rede
And but I tel her/I am but dede
And if I tel her/to say right sothe
I am a dradde she wol be wrothe
Alas/what shal I than do
In this debate I was so wo
Me thought myn herte braste atwayne
So at the laste/sothe for to sayne
I be thought me that Nature
Ne formed neuer in creature
So moche beaute trewly
And bountie/without mercy

In hope of that/my tale I tolde
With sorowe/as that I neuer sholde

[Column 2]

So at the laste/sothe to sayne
Whan that myn herte was come agayne
To tel shortly al my speche
With hole herte/I gan her beseche
That she wolde be my lady swete
And swore/and hertely gan her hete
Euer to be stedfast and trewe
And loue her alway fresshly newe
And neuer other lady haue
And al her worshyp for to saue
As I best coude/I swere her this
For yours is al that euer there is
For euermore/myn herte swete
And neuer to false you/but I mete
I nyl/as wyse god helpe me so

And whan I had my tale ydo
God wote she acompted not a stre
Of al my tale/so thought me
To tel shortly/right as it is
Trewly her answere it was this
I can not nowe wel countrefete
Her wordes/but this was the grete
Of her answere/she sayd nay
Al vtterly/alas that day
The sorowe I suffred and the wo
That trewly Cassandra/that so
Bewayled the distruction
Of Troye/and of Illion

[Column 1]

So it befel another yere
I thought ones I wolde fonde
To do her knowe/and vnderstonde
My wo/and she wel vnderstoode
That I ne wylned thyng but goode
And worshyp/and to kepe her name
Ouer al thynges/and drede her shame
And was so besy her to serue
And pyte were I shulde sterue
Sythe that I wylned none harme ywis

So whan my lady knewe al this
My lady yaue me al holy
The noble yeft of her mercy
Sauyng her worshyp by al wayes
Dredelesse/I mene none other wayes
And therwith she yaue me a rynge
I trowe it was the first thyng
But if myn herte was ywaxe
Glad/that it is no nede to axe

As helpe me god/I was as blyue
Reysed/as for dethe to lyue
Of al happes the alder best
The gladdest/and the moste at rest
For trewly that swete wight
Whan I had wronge/and she the right
She wolde alway so goodly
Foryeue me so debonairly
In al my youthe/in al chaunce
She toke me in her gouernaunce
Therwith she was alway so trewe
Our ioy was euer ilyche newe
Our hertes werne so euen a payre
That neuer nas that one contrayre
To that other/for no wo
For sothe ilyche they suffred tho

O blysse/and eke o sorowe bothe
Ilyche they were bothe glad and wrothe
Al was vs one/without were
And thus we lyued ful many a yere

[Column 2]

Sir (quod I) where is she nowe
Nowe (quod he) and stynte anone
Therwith he woxe as deed as stone
And sayd/alas that I was bore
That was the losse/that here before
I tolde the/that I had lorne

Bethynke the howe I sayd here beforne
Thou woste ful lytel what thou menest
I haue loste more than thou wenest

God wot alas/right that was she
Alas sir howe/what may that be
She is deed: Nay/Yes by my trouthe

Is that your losse/by god it is routhe.
And with that worde right anone
They gan to strake forthe/al was done
For that tyme/the hart huntynge

With that me thought that this kynge
Gan homwarde for to ryde
Onto a place was there besyde
Whiche was from vs but a lyte
A longe castel with walles whyte
By saynt Iohan/on a ryche hyl
As me mette/but thus it fyl

Right thus me mette/as I you tel
That in the castel there was a bel
As it had smytte houres twelue
Therwith I awoke my selue
And founde me lyeng in my bedde
And the boke that I had redde
Of Alcyone/and Seys the kyng
And of the goddes of slepyng
I founde it in myn honde ful euyn
Thought I/this is so queynt a sweuyn
That I wolde by processe of tyme
Fonde/to put this sweuen in ryme
As I can best/and that anone
This was my sweuen/nowe it is done.

¶ Explicit.